My Brothers' Obsessions With Frodo
by Lexilee
Summary: A story about a girl's life with fanboy brothers. Of course, she finds love. Blah blah blah.
1. I Live With Fanboys

**Chapter1 - I Live With Fanboys**

**Disclaimation:** Borrowing people for a while, will return later.  This is my perception.  Blah blah blah.  Reviews highly welcome.  This is applicable forever.

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"Gmmsshp..." I mumbled as the covers were torn from my bed and sunbeams tugged persistently at my eyelids.

"Get oooooff!" I tried again but the evil sun fingers had already won and I was awake and observing my brothers standing over me; Jerome holding my blankets and Ralph holding a torch.  I glared at them and I would have killed them had my body not entirely refused to move because it was still sleeping.  My brothers had obviously known this or they would never have risked anything so foolish.  They feared PMS above all things and to them I was the goddess of it.

"What do you want?" I growled.  Ralph winced, betraying his fear but Jerome stayed strong,

"Ooh, Lish!" he gabbled.  "Tickets for Return of the King!"  And suddenly I remembered my brothers' plans to go to the London premiere and their plans to take me with them.  Bait, they justified, albeit I wasn't as pretty as they would like but I was all they could get. I glanced across my pillow and up to the grins plastered across their freckled faces.

My brothers, well, no, that's hardly true... My HALF-brothers are, well, they're fanboys, pure and simple.  They label themselves in the like of dwarf women - no one thought they existed, it was a fangirls' world out there, they said, but that was hardly true.  I saw their obsessions growing every day in stacks of movie tickets, shelves of books, files of fanfic about the lovely Arwen, the beautiful Galadriel, the dashing Eowyn... even some Frodo/Sam slash on Jerome's part which scared me beyond all reason.  Fanboys, oh yes, they were.

And then there was me, their only sister, victim to their every whim simply because I was the youngest and they pledged to their mother that they would sustain my safety.  I was entirely capable of my own, I countered, at 17 and far more self-sufficient than both of them put together.  Yet, age and not wisdom was the judging point for Mervella and therefore I lost miserably.

The clock blinked at me, 4:32AM.  This was insanity and at that point I couldn't help it.  I screamed,

"MEEEEEEEEEEARGH!"  Ralph and Jerome dropped their loot and flew through the air in a flying tackle, landing on me and grabbing my face and wrists and sitting of my legs.

"Lishi, Lishi, shh!" Ralph scolded.  "You're lucky we didn't wake you up earlier... Storm's down there already."  Jerome nodded in agreement,

"Now, get your girly self together and let's go.  You've got 15 minutes."  They fled.

Sitting in the back of Ralph's green van 20 minutes later and departing our suburban home - clad in jeans, tank top and big black boots, my trihawk pulled in pigtails - I glared.  My brothers chattered excitedly in the front seat, _"Storm says... No way, Liv's better... Did you read that fic where... So hott!... Can't believe it... No, really?... Frodo... Frodo... Ring... Ring... RING!"_  Eventually Jerome turned to face me, snapping me out of my aggravated stupor,

"You know, Lish, you might want to think about wearing a dress to the premiere!"

I... hate... you...


	2. The Get Away

**Chapter 2 – The Get Away**

Storm was there, standing impatiently in a vacant doorway, tapping his sneaker clad foot impatiently against the concrete.  My brothers waved enthusiatically to get his attention and he returned the gesture before rushing over to us in the middle of the street.

"Finally!"  He looked at me and blushed a little,

"Hi, Lish..."  I vaguely smiled back,

"Hi, Storm."  He stared at me for a few minutes longer before launching into the elaborate plan he had concocted.  I tuned out then.  I wasn't in a particularly good mood due to the lack of sleep I'd had and that it was due to something like this.  I just didn't get what the big hype was.  I mean, alright, I _did, they were fantastic movies and Tolkien was a literary genius but in the end, was it worth all this trouble.  It was so highly unlikely that we'd meet anyone famous or if we did it'd be a few words, maybe a photo and a handshake, but it wouldn't matter.  To them it'd be one in a million people but, to my brothers, it would mean eternal friendship, even secret love affairs, all concocted over something so insignificant.  And as much as I hated Jeroma and I couldn't stand Ralph, I didn't want to see that happen to them.  It'd be worse than death when someone had to break the news to them that it wasn't __real and I knew that person would probably end up being me.  _

"LISH!" Ralph bellowed.

"WHAT?"

"Sorry, um, you looked a little, um, glazed, um..."  Jerome cut him off,

"Your bit is to man the get away car."

"Why do we need a get away car?"

"So that we can get away."

"Away from what?"  That's where he drew a blank.  He looked at Storm who kindof froze,

"Um, err, we... well, we get away..."  I smirked.

"It's away from the rabid fans trying to steal our tickets."  Rabid fans?  Sounded dangerous to me.  I shut my mouth and extended my hand for Ralph's keys.  He slowly placed them down.  Ralph is very protective of his van, his "_precious" as he calls it.  I turned and started to clomp back to the carpark. _

The last glimpse I had of them before I left; Jerome, tallest, dark cowlicked hair and freckles, brown eyes squinting in determination.  Ralph's floppy long hair, identical eyes to Jerome's, bottom lip bitten in anticiapation.  And Storm, messy blonde hair and permanently flushed cheeks, wringing his hands nervously.  Silhouetted against the sunrise.

Half an hour later we were speeding down the highway, boys squealing with joy in the backseat and the radio blaring in the front.


End file.
